


End Of The Begining

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 09:24:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You ever see Brimstone?</p>
            </blockquote>





	End Of The Begining

## End Of The Begining

by Nemesis

They're not mine, they never will be. I just want to play with them for a little while. Please? 

The sequel to "The Price." There may be more stories in the middle later, but for now, I thought you might want to know what happened to Jim. 

This isn't really a death story. (I haven't posted that one yet.) It's also a very minor crossover with AtS. So minor, you might miss it. If you really want to know, drop me a line. 

This story is a sequel to: The Price 

* * *

"This is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps,the end of the begining." 

~ W.C. London 

It had been seven years. Seven years of Blair, of being partners in all things. Seven years of solving the unsolvable, seven years of dodging unanswerable questions. Seven years Jim Ellison had given his soul for, seven years he'd never regret. 

The lawyer sitting on his couch reviewing a blood signed contract didn't change that. It wasn't the same man he'd made his deal with. Apparently, the other man had fallen out of favor. "We can give you a week to get you affairs in order. Then, you enter our service." 

"And if I don't?" 

"Ever hear of the Kennedys?" 

"I see." Jim looked at his palm. The old scar had started bleeding, a sign his time was up. "What do you mean, enter your service?" 

"You ever see Brimstone?" 

"I've heard of it." 

"You and half the under lords of hell. We want you to fulfill your purpose, Mr. Ellison. We want you to be our Sentinel." 

* * *

"Alright, who are you and what have you done with my Sentinel?" Blair dropped his keys in the basket, and stared suspiciously at the dinner on the table. Jim had been distant for weeks, and now this? 

"I admit it. I've hidden the real Jim Ellison in the linen closet so I can have my way with you." 

Blair let himself smile. "Well, since you went to so much trouble..." Jim reached for the wine bottle and Blair spotted the bandage on his hand. "Jeez, Jim. What the hell did you do to yourself?" Blood had stained the white bandage a vibrant red. 

Jim looked at the stain as if he were noticing it for the first time. It didn't really hurt, it was just meant to remind him of his fate. "It's nothing." 

"Nothing? Jim, you bitch about paper cuts." 

"Can you just leave it alone? Jesus." When in doubt, return to old form. "It's nothing, alright?" 

"Fine." Blair threw his jacket on the floor. "Be a jackass. I was just worried about you." 

"I..." Jim trailed off. "I'll explain. But let's eat first. This'll spoil your appetite." Blair sat and Jim reached across the table with his uninjured hand. "Just, let me have this, okay?" After tonight, everything would be different. He might never have another chance like this. 

Blair, worry curling in his stomach, wondered what the hell was going on. Working his way through the pasta, he came up with half a dozen possible explanations, most of them involving the seven year itch. He drank too much wine, trying to stop his thoughts from whirling. After they'd eaten, Jim led him to the couch. 

"Blair..." He reached out and stroked the now short curls. "You're not going to like this." 

"You're leaving me. You're really fucking leaving me." He didn't want to hear this. He tried to get up, but Jim caught his arm. "No, man, I don't want to hear it. You've been getting farther and farther away lately, but I kept telling myself I was imagining things. This dinner, this is you trying to let me down gently." 

"No, no it's not." 

"Tell me you're not leaving me then." Jim wouldn't meet his eye. "Bastard. Look at me!" 

"You think I _want_ to leave? You think I wouldn't if I had a choice? Do you have _any_ idea what you are to me?" 

"I'm your partner, your Guide, and your lover, and apparently, that's still not enough for you." 

"Damn it, will you just listen to me for a minute?" Jim released his grip on Blair's arm almost reluctantly. "This isn't about me and my intimacy issues, alright? I wouldn't be going if I had a choice." 

"What do you mean, if you had a choice? What..." He trailed off. "You're sick, aren't you?" 

"Blair." 

"Here I've been thinking I'm going to come home some day and find all my shit in boxes again, and you're dwelling on... what? Cancer? Heart disease? You'd notice something like that before the doctors did. You'd know how bad it is. You wouldn't tell me, either. Not until you knew for sure. You'd just stew, and not talk about anything at all." 

"I'm not sick, but... I've got a debt that needs to be paid, Chief. If I don't go with them, they can renege on the contract. I'd rather die then let them do that." 

"What the hell are you talking about?" 

"Do you remember, seven years ago, when you got shot?" 

"You don't forget something like that, Jim." 

"I told you I couldn't let one more day go by without telling you how I felt. Didn't you ever wonder why then? Why then when you'd been hurt so much worse before?" 

"I didn't think about it. You told me you loved me. I was so grateful, I didn't spend much time wondering why you'd finally grown some balls." 

"It wasn't a shoulder wound." 

"What do you mean, it wasn't a shoulder wound? I have the scar-" 

"It nicked your heart, and you were going to die. I zoned, really zoned, after you got shot. I had a vision. I would have given them anything they wanted. I couldn't let you go. I couldn't let you die not knowing how much I loved you." 

"Jim, what did you do?" 

"I told him he could have anything. I would have given them MY life in exchange for yours. But that's not what they wanted." 

"Jim." Blair realized Jim wasn't even hearing him. 

"I would have given it all for one more day. They gave me seven years." 

"Jim. What. Did. You. Do?" 

"All they wanted was my soul." 

"Fuck." After all they'd seen, all they'd done, Blair believed without question. As they spoke, the blood on the bandage spread a little more. "Don't you dare move, you hear me? I'll be right back." He grabbed the first aid kit from the bathroom. He had to fix Jim's hand before he killed him. "Gimme your hand." 

"I had to. I couldn't-" 

"Shut up, and let me think, alright? You just told me you sold your soul for me." He gave the new bandage a vicious yank. "Which is either the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, or the _stupidest_ idea you ever had." 

"I love you." 

"Those three words have led to some of the most horrific incidents in human history, you know?" 

"I knew what I was getting into, Blair." 

"I'm betting Paris said the same thing about Helen." 

"Is that supposed to mean something?" 

"Never mind." Blair leaned back. "Now, the question is, how do we get you out of this mess?" 

"We can't." 

"Don't be so damn negative. You promised them your soul, right?" 

"That's what the paper said." 

"Well, they can't have it. It belongs to me." 

"Chief," 

"It does! I was dead, Jim. You gave me a part of yourself. You belong to me." 

"I signed a waiver." 

"Huh?" 

"You're right, okay? You had claim over me. But I signed a waiver. They wouldn't have done it otherwise." 

"You gave me up to get me back?" 

"I wasn't going to let you go." 

"Who knew Satan was that smart? He's never that smart in the stories." 

"He's got lawyers now." 

"I guess he gets most of them, huh?" Blair checked Jim's palm. It was already stained red again. "How long do you have left?" 

"A week." 

"Jeez, Jim, I'm good, but I'm not that good." He got up, went for his coat. "Come on. We've got some work to do." 

"Where are we going?" 

"Library. Get my computer. Seven days. Could we be cutting it any closer?" Muttering to himself, Blair went to start the car, leaving Jim to get his laptop and lock up. 

* * *

Captain Simon Banks opened the door to his office at 1:00 am. He was more than ready to head home. "Sandburg, what the hell are you doing here? I sent you home hours ago." 

"I was keeping Jim up." Blair had his glasses on, and was staring blearily at the computer screen. 

"Sandburg, I know you like to keep up with the Anthro stuff, but you've been a cop a long time now. Don't you think it can wait till morning?" All that stuff on demons would keep him up all night. 

"It's not Anthro stuff." 

"Then what the hell are you working on?" 

"I'm trying to save Jim's soul." 

"That's nice." He was halfway to the door before it processed. Save Jim's soul? No. He wasn't going to ask. That had always been his policy when it came to Sandburg and Ellison. 

* * *

Five days came and went, five days where Blair slept only when forced to, ate only when reminded to. Five days consulting with people halfway across the world on things that he hadn't really believed in before. Five days studying a bloody contract. Five days of nonstop work, only to face defeat. "There's no loophole." He sounded absolutely defeated. 

"I could have told you that days ago." Jim stretched out his bandaged hand and shut the laptop. "Come to bed." 

"How can you be so calm? Jim, I've talked to people, the authorities on this stuff. Hell, whichever hell you get sent to, is not a pleasant place!" 

"They don't want another victim. They want a Sentinel." 

"Why do they need a Sentinel?" 

"The lawyer they sent to talk to me started babbling about some television show, Brimstone. I lost him after that." 

"They want you to track escaped souls?" 

"I guess." 

"How could you do this to yourself, Jim? I don't want my life at your expense. I don't want this! You could have lived without me." 

"No, I couldn't have. I would have died with you, Chief. A Sentinel can't function without the Guide. I think, maybe, you can live without me though. They said nothing would happen to you." 

"Damn it, Jim." Blair rubbed his eyes. "I'm going to lose you, aren't I?" 

"We got seven years, Blair. We never would have had that otherwise." He leaned forward and scented Blair. "Please, come to bed." They didn't have much time left. Just two days. Two days to memorize, two days to keep with him for the rest of what was undoubtedly going to be a long life. 

He took Jim's hand and they went upstairs. 

* * *

On the dawning of the seventh day, Blair in an exhausted sleep beside him, Jim began the last of his preparations. 

He picked up a pen and stared at the paper. He'd never had the words. He didn't think he'd have them now, but he had to try. 

Blair, 

I know this isn't what you want, but it was what I wanted. What I've always wanted. It gave me you. Seven years of you. I'd always known a lifetime wouldn't be enough, but I settled for those seven years because they were all I could have. What I want is eternity, but no one gets that. Not people like us. Know that I love you. I might not even be in this reality anymore, but I still love you. I always will love you. You have to believe that. I did this for you, but I also did it for me. Love you forever, and isn't it ironic that it's so easy to write that, even if I don't say it enough. Don't blame yourself. There was nothing for me without you. 

Jim 

He slid the paper into an envelope and put it on the nightstand. Then he reached for Blair, and drew him close. Kissed him half awake, but no more. Anymore and Blair would realize this was the seventh day, would ruin this one last time. He wanted perfect, one perfect moment, and he got as close as he ever had. After it was over, and Blair lay beneath him, panting breathlessly, it finally seemed to dawn on him what was happening. "No." 

"I have to." 

"I always knew you'd leave me, Jim, but this isn't how I imagined it. I always thought it would be a woman that took you away from me. Not, you know, Satan. If he even exists. Does he exist?" 

"I didn't ask." He trailed a finger along Blair's jaw. "I didn't care. We don't have much time, Blair. They'll be here soon." 

"Jim-" 

"Don't talk, just listen. I've never have been great with words, Chief. I couldn't tell you what you meant to me. Not really. I... Even now I can't say it. But you know, don't you? You have to know." 

"I know." His fingers tightened on Jim's arms, hard enough to leave bruises. "I know." 

He could hear footsteps coming up the stairs to the loft, the footsteps of the black lawyer they'd sent before. "It's time." 

The grip tightened again. "What happens if you don't go?" 

"Then we all die. Not just us, but everyone close to us." He kissed Blair again, one last time, as deeply as he dared, then got out of bed. Even dialed down, he could hear the soft sobs as he dressed and then went to let his damnation in. 

The man looked like he didn't want to be there anymore than Jim did. "Ready to go?" 

Jim looked towards the stairway. "No. But I'm never going to be, so it's a moot point." 

"If there's anything you'd like to bring with you, now's the time." 

The only thing he wanted was upstairs crying into his pillow. "No. There's nothing." He went to get his shoes. "Let me ask you. You ever been in love?" 

"Once or twice." 

"Do you think he's going to forgive me?" 

"Anything's possible." He watched Jim finish putting his shoes on. "Leave the wallet. You won't need it where you're going." 

He left his wallet, but took his guns. He'd done some research on that Brimstone show. He figured he'd need them. 

The man nodded. "We'll get you a special clip for that. One that won't run out of ammo." 

This all seemed so normal to this guy. Was he really that cold blooded? "Do you have a soul?" It suddenly seemed important to know. 

"On a good day, I'd tell you yes." The man closed his eyes, and for a moment, Jim sensed the presence of another big cat. "Today's not a good day." 

"I'll say." And Blair was coming down the stairs, fully dressed, eyes still red but not crying anymore. "Okay. I'm ready to go." 

Jim just stared for a minute, then managed a, "Go?" 

"Go. As in, with you." Blair looked to the lawyer. "A Sentinel needs a Guide. He's going to be worthless without me." 

"No." Jim shook his head. "No. I am not letting you do this." 

"Like you have a choice. We both know I'm reallyt the one in charge here." Blair slid on a jacket. "You agree with me, don't you?" 

The lawyer shrugged. "If he can't do the job without you, I don't see why you can't come." 

"Blair." 

"Your letter, it said you wanted forever. Jim, we can have that. Just let me go with you." 

"Not like this. I don't want it like this." 

"Too bad. Let's go." And Jim had no choice. He followed where Blair led, and Blair was leading him to forever. And really, what was the point of fighting something you wanted so badly? 

* * *

Some years later.... 

New York was as gritty now as it has been in the decades before the environmentalists had rather dramatically finally made themselves heard and understood. Blair leaned against a wall, eating a hotdog, and watching the people push past on the sidewalk. He spotted Jim on the other side of the street, and nodded to him. Their quarry was coming up the street. 

Despite everything, despite what they'd given up, he'd kept Jim. And that was worth any price. 

* * *

End End Of The Begining by Nemesis: nemesis_07@juno.com

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